Walter Benjamin - Radio Benjamin

The cuckoo clock begins to chime.

LISBETH: Heaven help me, I have forgotten the carrots, and you, good man, take everything I have and be on your way.

The chiming of the clock must be loud and one chime should follow slowly after another, so that the preceding words of the wife can be heard between the first and second chimes.

PETER ( counts along with clock, in a monotonous voice, as if lost in thought ): One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.

Utter silence. The clock strikes for the thirteenth time. We hear a thud.

LISBETH: My God, Peter has lost consciousness. Peter, Peter, what’s wrong with you? Wake up!

Moaning, sighs, and tears.

Gong.

ANNOUNCER: Peter has not only lost consciousness. He has almost lost his life to arrogance and godlessness. Now, as the clock strikes thirteen, he comes to, reflects, and decides, for his third and final wish from the Keeper of Wealth, to ask for his heart back. Let’s see what happens!

Gong.

PETER:

Keeper of wealth in the forest of pine,

Hundreds of years are surely thine:

Thine is the tall pine’s dwelling place—

Those born on Sunday see thy face. 9

LITTLE GLASS MAN ( in a hollow voice ): What do you want, Peter Munk?

PETER: I still have one wish, Mr. Keeper of Wealth.

LITTLE GLASS MAN: Can hearts of stone still wish? You have everything you need for your rotten mind, and I am not inclined to fulfill your wish.

PETER: But you promised me three wishes; I still have one left.

LITTLE GLASS MAN: If it is foolish, I can refuse to grant it. But go ahead, let’s hear your wish.

PETER: Take this dead stone out of me and give me back my living heart.

LITTLE GLASS MAN: Did I make that trade with you? Am I Dutch Michael, who bestows fortunes and cold hearts? You will have to seek your heart from him.

PETER: Oh no, he will never give it back to me.

LITTLE GLASS MAN ( after a pause ): I pity you, even as bad as you are. But because your wish is not foolish, I cannot deny you my help. Can you remember a verse?

PETER: I think so, even though I once forgot yours, Mr. Keeper of Wealth.

LITTLE GLASS MAN: Then repeat after me. If you forget it, all is lost: “You were not sent here from Holland …” Repeat.

PETER: “You were not sent here from Holland …”

LITTLE GLASS MAN: “Mr. Michael, but from hell-land.” Repeat.

PETER: “Mr. Michael, but from hell-land.” Oh, now I have it, Mr. Keeper of Wealth, that’s great. Surely it’s a magic spell, and when Dutch Michael hears it, he will be powerless to harm me.

LITTLE GLASS MAN: That’s right, but what else?

PETER: What else? Nothing else. I go to him and say:

You were not sent here from Holland,

Mr. Michael, but from hell-land.

With that he will be powerless to harm me.

LITTLE GLASS MAN: That’s one way of seeing it. Although he can no longer do anything to you, as soon as you have spoken these words, Dutch Michael will have disappeared. And the devil knows where. You, however, will stand in front of all those hearts and be unable to find your own.

PETER: O God, how will I manage it?

LITTLE GLASS MAN: That I cannot tell you. So far, you have reflected little in your life. It’s high time you started. And now I have to tend to the woodpeckers on my pines, which don’t cause me as much grief as Sunday’s Children do.

Gong.

ANNOUNCER: Now I have to tell you something: Wait — and if I must wait, I prefer to wait in Human Land than in Voice Land. Here everything seems to be in a dense fog. One can’t see a thing. One can only prick up one’s ears, and I’ve been doing that for hours now. But in the forest, where the Keeper of Wealth lives, not a single branch stirs, no woodpecker pecks. Nor is there a chirrup from a nest. Fine by me, but what kind of stories are these, anyway, that I resort to poetry out of sheer boredom? But I hear some crackling, or is it a whisper? Is that the voice of the Keeper of Wealth, or Coal Peter’s voice?

COAL PETER ( very hollow and sad ): Coal Peter.

ANNOUNCER: He doesn’t sound so good.

COAL PETER ( very hollow and sad ): Is there an echo in these woods?

COAL PETER ( very hollow and sad ): Oh!

ANNOUNCER: You are not very good company in these woods. And what is that I hear ringing from afar? That sounds just like Dutch Michael’s haunting glass music. Well, say something! Why are you so silent?

COAL PETER ( as above ): Hmm!

ANNOUNCER: Now that’s a bit much. Too mysterious and uncertain. No hard feelings, Mr. Coal Peter, but I’m going to look for a new route.

COAL PETER ( as above ): Farewell! ( He knocks and calls out. ) Dutch Michael!

Repeats three times.

DUTCH MICHAEL: Good that you have come. I couldn’t have stood it either, living with Lisbeth, that clumsy, complaining wench who throws money away to beggars. You know what? If I were you, I’d go traveling again. Stay away for a few years. Who knows, when you come home, Lisbeth might be long dead.

COAL PETER: You guessed it, Dutch Michael, I want to go to America. But I do need money for that; it’s rather far away.

DUTCH MICHAEL: And you shall have it, my little Peter, you shall have it. ( We hear jingling and counting .) One hundred, two hundred, five hundred, eight hundred, a thousand, twelve hundred. Not marks, dear Peter, all thalers.

COAL PETER: Michael, you’re one in a million but you’re a real crook. You lied to me, saying I had a stone in my chest, and that you had my heart.

DUTCH MICHAEL: Isn’t it true? Can you feel your heart? Isn’t it as cold as ice? Are you afraid or grieving? Are you capable of regret?

COAL PETER: You merely stopped my heart, but I still have it, just as always, in my breast, and the same with Ezekiel. He told me that you lied to us; you cannot tear the heart out of a man’s chest, neatly and unseen; for that you would have to work magic.

DUTCH MICHAEL: But I assure you, you and Ezekiel and all the other rich people who sought me out have cold hearts just like yours, and I have their real hearts in my cabinet.

COAL PETER: Eh, how easily lies flow from your tongue! Find someone else to believe that! Do you really think I haven’t seen such stunts a dozen times in my travels? Those hearts in the cabinet are made of wax. You’re a rich guy, I grant you, but you can’t work magic.

DUTCH MICHAEL: Come on in and read all the labels. That one there, look, that’s Peter Munk’s heart. See how it quivers? Could anyone make that out of wax?

COAL PETER: And yet, it is made of wax; that’s not how a real heart beats. Mine is still in my chest. No, you can’t do magic.

DUTCH MICHAEL: I will prove it to you! You shall experience it yourself — this is your heart. Here, I’ll put your heart back into you! How do you feel now?

COAL PETER: Sure enough, you were right. I just didn’t believe such things were possible!

DUTCH MICHAEL: You see? I can do magic. Now, come here; I want to put the stone back.

COAL PETER: Slow down, Mr. Michael! You can catch mice with bacon, but this time you’re the one who’s been tricked. Listen to this:

He stutters at first and then calls out ever more bravely, louder and faster, repeating his incantation several times:

You were not sent here from Holland,

Mr. Michael, but from hell-land.

The hearts beat loudly. Dutch Michael groans. Thunder.

COAL PETER: See how he writhes, the evil Dutch Michael. But what terrible thunder. I’m afraid. Quick, back home now, to my Lisbeth.

Gong.